The Recruits
by Gweniveve Skyes
Summary: Struck by a rash of Pokemon murders, the Pokemon G-men take it upon themselves to investigate, but with their ranks spread thin, they must take it upon themselves to take unusual measures. They need...the Recruits.
1. Prologue

The Recruits

**Disclaimer: Because I wanna be just like everybody else, I'm going to put up a disclaimer: I NO OWN. Only the plot and Gweneth Hylar are mine, so no touchy!**

The room was silent and dusty, the only light was from a lamp, dangling from the ceiling, casting everything in a dingy glow. As the phrase went, it was always best to hide in plain sight, as is the case here. Cynthia, Champion of Sinnoh and ranking G-men, watched calmly as Lance paced back and forth, his cape flowing behind him. His face was screwed up in worry and agitation as he paced. "He's late," he growled. "Again."

"Well, Steven is from Hoenn. It takes him a while to get here," Cynthia offered.

"And you're from Sinnoh." He argued. "He knows that it takes a long time."

"True, but you and I know full well that I wasn't in Sinnoh when we called the meeting." Cynthia smiled faintly as she saw the flash of blush crawl on Lance's cheeks. He suppressed it as best as he could when he noticed her watching him.

"Still.." Lance trailed off when he heard the warehouse door slam open. Both trainers reached for their pokeballs, fearing some intruder had found their meeting place.

"Okay, you can put them down people, do I look like some criminal to you?" It was Steven, champion of Hoenn, raising his hands up at the sight.

"You're late." Lance stated, arms crossed.

"Yes yes, I know. Currents are a pain to study, you know that?" Steven took a chair and flopped down in it, clearly exhausted. "I study earth and fossils, not wind currents."

Lance opened his mouth to say something, but Cynthia shushed him. "Okay, now that everyone is here, let's get started." Cynthia pulled out a manilla folder from a bag that was sitting at her feet "Now, as we all know, there has been a rash of burglaries from various breeders and Pokemon Centers."

"Sounds like old hat from Team Rocket," Steven said, running his fingers through his hair.

"It does, but here is the catch. Some are only temporary, with some of the pokemon coming back, a little woozy from what appears to be a tranquilizer, others, don't come back at all, or worse, we find them, dead, with parts missing and all the blood fully drained from them." She paused as Steven tried to maintain his composure, but she could tell that the news made him ill. "The pokemon recovered all had the same tranquilizer makeup, so we know they were all captured by the same people. The problem is making a connection from those cases to the dead pokemon."

Lance nodded. "It seems to be by the same people, but we don't know how they're connected, nor can we investigate every case. Too many of us have other assignments."

"Plus there are only a handful of us anyways," Steven added. "Is there any evidence at all to any organization?"

"No, there is nothing. Team Rocket's been off the radar for almost years now, plus the others have been broken up."

"Alright" Steven stood up, stretching. "So, we have no idea who it is, why they're doing it, nor do we know how they're connected. Oh, and we don't have enough people. How do you want to go about this Lance?"

Lance bit his lip. For the Champions, it was always difficult for them to balance the duties of Champion and G-Men, but they managed, sometimes. Also, their ranks were spread out and thin, making it even more difficult to investigate. It was obvious that this was amounting to something big, because of the increase. Something came to him suddenly, but Cynthia beat him to the punch.

"Simple, we get new recruits."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Steven Stone, Champion of Hoenn, landed on the beaches of Dewford Town. He returned his skarmory back to its ball and he was reminded once again why he preferred the earth under his feet and not to be above the ground, as Lance was wont to do on his dragonite. Flying might be good for the Dragon Master, but not for the master of the earth. It was about mid-day and the sun beat down on the beach relentlessly. The ocean breeze did cool it off some, but not by much. Steadying himself, he marched over to Granite Cave. Lance had sent him there, to recruit a kid named "Xavier Omnik", but after searching high and low in Dewford, none of the residents recall anyone by that name.

_"Must be a wandering trainer," _he determined, striding towards Granite Cave. Even experienced trainers went to it, like Mothims to a street light, to train and become stronger, mentally and psychically. Steven would know, he went there many times as a youth. He still went there occasionally, both for nostalgia and to train new members of his pokemon team. "That would explain why nobody knew who he was." Lance did describe him as a red head wearing a pair of headphones, but the rest of the description went into one ear and out the other, but then again, he had already left the Dragon Master, flying away on his Skarmory. He summoned Metagross; two pairs of eyes were better than one. The steel pokemon folded his legs under its torso and levitated a few feet off the ground, red eyes scanning the cave.

It didn't take Steven long to find the trainer Lance told him to find. He was sitting on a rock, leaning up against a wall. The headphones were practically glued to the young man's head and the Champion could hear the music from a few feet away. It sounded like heavy rock; Steven was more of a fan of groups like Led Zepplin and Pink Floyd himself. The teen's eyes were closed and his head bobbed to the beat, his fingers tapping to some beat or another. Coppery hair stuck out in different directions and the boy's skin was tanned form traveling in the sun. He was tall and lanky, limbs akimbo as he listened to his music.

"Excuse me, are you erm, 'Xavier Omnik'?" Steven asked. Metagross rumbled in greeting, a noise that sounded like a combination of something akin to a binary code and the shifting earth. There was no answer right away, and Steven repeated himself, louder this time. Metagross looked up at Steven the second time and gave a gesture that looked like a shrug, but Steven wasn't sure.

So Steven decided to go for a more direct approach; he strode up the the stranger and tapped him on the shoulder. That got the young man's attention. In a second, the teen had taken off the headphones, placing them around his neck. He was wearing a yellow shirt, with black sleeves, and a pair of dark washed jeans. A black vest was tossed aside on a nearby rock, along with a black backpack with gold straps.

The teen looked up at Steven nonplussed, as if he had been expecting him there. "Hello, may I help you?" he said.

"Um, yes," Steven replied, curious as to how he didn't startle the young man and the teen's ease around the Champion. Maybe he didn't realize that he was the champion of Hoenn. "My name is Steven Stone, Hoenn Champion. Are you 'Xavier Omnik?"

"Yes I am." Xavier stood up, brushing the dirt off his jeans. He stuck out a hand, covered in a black fingerless glove. "It's nice to meet you. May I ask why you are here in Granite Cave?"

Steven chuckled. "I could say the same for you."

Xavier shrugged his shoulders. "Me? Oh, I was just traveling through Dewford when I decided to take a detour into Granite Cave, just to relax."

"Seems an odd place to relax."

"Hey, it works." Xavier bent down to grab his pack. "Now, what about you?"

"I was sent to find you."

Xavier shouldered his bag and Steven noticed the boy's dark emerald hued eyes, alight with curiosity. "What for?"

"You've heard of the G-Men, correct?"

Xavier nodded. "Yeah, they occasionally show up on the news."

Steven let out a sigh of relief. Most people nowadays had no idea who the G-Men were, or what they did. True, a certain degree of anonymity was nice, but sometimes, Steven wished that people were more aware of what they did. "Good. Now, you see, as a fellow G-Men myself, I have been tasked to find 'recruits' shall we say. After examining your skills and history, you have the right credentials to be recruited as a G-Men."

"That's pretty cool. So, you want me to be a G-Men?"

"If you pass the training, of course."

Gweneth Hylar snarled in frustration as she stormed out of the Sinnoh League Stadium. She had lost in the semi-final round battle, when the opponent's Glalie took out Beryl, her Salamence. In anger, the young woman stormed out, her coat trailing behind her. Now, Gwen—as she liked to be called- wasn't a sore loser, but her loose control over her emotions make it so that she gave the appearances of one. She was what some would call, 'emotional'. She came to a stop in the hallway tunnel under the crowds, taking deep breaths to control herself, like her sister taught her, but it went straight out the proverbial window.

Spying the concrete wall, she punched it angrily, once, twice, the adrenaline from the previous battle running through her veins. She then punched it even harder the third time and a wave of pain washed over her, the adrenaline now disappearing from her system. Gweneth yelped in pain and jerked her hand back, minute flecks of blood covering the cold grey walls of the tunnel. She had punched it harder than she had thought she did. She stared at her hand, watching the small rivulets of blood trickle down her fingers, in between her knuckles, then she yelped again, quieter this time, as her hand pulsed with the pain. Gwen sucked on it, then took the bottom of her blue short sleeved shirt and wrapped it around the injured hand.

Gwen was commonly known as the "Comeback Queen", throughout the League, foe her sudden disappearance and resurgence, and for her habit of falling behind in a battle, then coming back for a win. After her sudden withdrawal from the Sinnoh League competition five years, she had disappeared from competitions for two years. Then, she resurfaced, participating in the Hoenn League and placing in the top eight. Since then, she had consistently placed in the semi-finals or top eight of just about every competition she competed in. She never won any though. She was like her older sister in a lot of ways, both were dirty blondes, with grey eyes. Gweneth's was more of a storm or slate grey than the blue grey of her sister's. She wasn't very tall either, standing about 5'4, slender and tan from her years of traveling, nearly ten years of it.

"_How ironic that while I send my pokemon to battle, they do not bleed for me, yet I, who only directs them, bleed for them,"_ she thought. Maybe it was poetic justice on some level, or the fact that she could control her temper no better than a Tauros seeing red. She stomped down the hallway, trying to get to the Pokecenter as soon as she could, not for her sake, but for her pokemon, who went through a brutal battle in the semi finals. The pokeballs felt like lead weights on her bandolier, making her feel even ore guilty. _"Maybe if I hadn't pushed them as far as I did, maybe if I trained them better, in anticipation for the battle, maybe..."_

_ "_Excuse me, but are you Gweneth Hylar?" Gweneth came to a stop at the voice, wincing at the pain. Why did she decide to punch a wall and a concrete one at that?

"Um, yeah I am, why do ask?" Gweneth looked up to find an older woman, in her twenties, maybe her thirties if Gwen really stretched it, with long blond hair and some errant bangs obscuring part of the woman's face. She was dressed in black and grey clothing, like she had just arrived from a funeral or she was a goth, but the woman seemed much too cheery to be a goth. A long black overcoat hung over one of the stranger's arm. She quickly realized who she was talking to as the phrase tumbled out of her mouth. "Cyn-Cynthia?" she squeaked. The Sinnoh Champion, Cynthia Griffith, was talking to her, a loser, of all people.

Cynthia nodded. "That would be me." she glanced down at Gwen's hand. "Did you hurt your hand somehow?"

"Yeah, I got into a fight with the wall and lost." Gweneth grimaced. "I think it cheated"

"I might have something for it."

"Naw, it'll heal." Gweneth flexed it for a demonstration and flinched at the pain. "Somehow."

Cynthia chuckled. "Very well. I would like to talk to you."

"Me about what? My loss today?" The last part sounded peevish and moody. Gwen inwardly smacked herself. This _was_ the Champion she was talking to."

"Even the best trainers lose sometimes. But it matters not the wins and losses, it's about how strong you get with each battle you face."

"That's what the winners say," Gweneth then clamped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry 'bout that," she apologized, chagrined.

"Don't worry, I've had people say worse to me."

"Oh."

"I wanted to talk to you."

Gweneth shuffled from foot to foot. "About what?"

Cynthia put on her coat, the cool temperatures of the tunnel giving her goosebumps. "Have you ever heard of the Pokemon G-Men?"

Gwen's face screwed up in concentration. "I think so. They're sort of like police, right?"

"Yes, but we focus on crime relating to pokemon," Cynthia gestured for Gweneth to follow her down the tunnel, towards the PokeCenter. "Tell me, you've seen the recent news stories on TV, right?"

"Well, when I get the chance to see the TV in the Center. The ones about the pokemon murders?"

"Those ones. We've been investigating them for a while, but with our numbers so few and spread thin, it is much more difficult to look into them."

"What about the Jennies?" Gweneth asked. "I bet they could help."

"Unfortunately, they have a lot on their plate, so to speak. With the recent crime rates with humans increasing in certain areas, and budgets getting slashed, it's difficult for them to investigate human related crimes."

Gweneth and Cynthia arrived at the Pokecenter. "Oh, I didn't know that."

Cynthia nodded. "Because of these 'setbacks' as we'll call them, Lance and I have decided to take a few 'unusual measures'."

Gweneth placed her pokeballs on the counter of the Center and the Chansey at the desk took them and hurried off, its small feet pattering on the linoleum as it headed towards the back. The pair sat down on the couch and Cynthia noticed Gweneth's nervousness. The trainer was agitated and her foot tapped nervously. "Something the matter Gweneth?"

"Nothing to worry about; I just don't like Pokecenters very much. Now, what were you saying?"

"The unusual measures constitute that we train and teach young trainers like yourself..."

Ecruteak City was a city known for its history and its embrace for its culture and past. It was also known for its mysteries, like the ancient Towers, the Brass and Tin towers, commemorations of the legendary pokemon Ho-Oh. And with all ancient sights, they were rumored to contain many treasures, old, beautiful, and worth a fortune on the black market if certain people got a hold of them.

Which was the exact reason that Lauren Silverfeather, master thief and trainer, decided to make a 'visit'.

"Come on Windblaze!" Lauren hissed at Windblaze, her blaziken. Said blaziken was struggling to lift his trainer into a window of the burned out tower. Lauren had decided that having blaziken lift her into one of the windows of the burned out tower was far less conspicuous than just simply flying to the top of the tower on her altaria, Stratos. Unfortunately for Lauren, Murphy's Law decided to kick just at that moment. "It can't be that hard! I'm not _that_ fat!"

"Blaze?"

"Because, this is less conspicuous than flying." Lauren had her arms wrapped around the sill of a large window, whose glass panes had long since burned and melted into slag. Her legs were kicking around, trying to get a foothold on the old brick outside, all the while Windblaze was struggling to keep Lauren up. One of her feet smacked Windblaze on the nose, yet he took with a quiet dignity.

"Sorry about that Blaze. Wait, yes!" Lauren had managed to crawl through the gap, landing in an undignified heap. "It has been _far_ too long," she muttered to herself, referring to her time as a thief. She worked for many companies over the past few works their identities always kept a secret. Lauren enjoyed the work, not because she was a kleptomaniac, but because of the challenge it offered. After decided to quit the many jobs she was offered, she wandered for a while, occasionally stealing an object or two, just to keep her skills up. She never kept the items she stole; she always returned them after a few days, after all evidence of her was wipe clean, of course. The last thing she needed was someone to make the connections of her past.

She dusted herself, the ashes of the past floating around her as she did so. Despite the tower being burned to a hollowed out shell over seven hundred years ago, the smell of smoke and fire lingered in the air, a constant reminder of the past and a warning for the future. The room she was in looked like it had suffered the worst of the fire from so long ago. The blackened and scorched walls looked fragile and ready to collapse at a moment's notice. Gaping holes dotted the floor while debris piled in the corners of the room. Thin shafts of the city lights lit the room, dimly, making the holes darker. She stuck her head out of the window and returned Windblaze back to his ball. It would be in poor taste to leave her starter outside, plus who would know what would happen if he was let lose in the unsuspecting town. "Now, if I were a valuable treasure, where would I hide?" Lauren mused, running her fingers through her mousey brown hair, brushing back her navy beret. "Hmmm..." A faint breeze blew through the room and Lauren shivered, pulling her blue jacket closer to her.

"Hello Lauren. I was expecting you to eventually show up here, knowing your reputation and all." The voice seemed to come from everywhere, echoing off the scorched walls of the tower.

Lauren reached for the pack on her back, ready to pull out Stratos and escape if necessary. "Who are you? She snarled, trying to sound intimidating.

"Let's us just say that I've been following your for some time now." The shadows in the back corner of the room shifted, revealing a flash of red in the black. The stranger stepped from the corner. A black and red cape obscured most of his body, but Lauren could see the shock of red hair, dimly lit by the lights surrounding the tower. His face,cast in stark lights and shadows, was stern and imposing. His boots clicked on the burned wooden slats. "Lauren Silverfeather," he said, rolling the name off the tongue as he came closer to her. His hand rested lightly on a row of pokeballs, freshly polished and gleaming. "Now,' Silverfeather' doesn't sound like your real last name, is it?"

"It could be, but then again it may not be—holy Mew, you're Lance!" she blurted out. "The Champion! _I'm so screwed_," she mentally added.

"Yes, yes I am. I would like to make a proposition to you." Lance Drake, Champion of Johto and Kanto, fully revealed himself. "I can make this little incident go away if you'll take me up on my offer."

"And if I don't?" Lauren challenged, then realized that it probably wasn't the best idea to talk back to the Champion, especially one who caught you on trespassing charges and quite possibly, a list of charges that could go as long as her arm.

"Well, while we may not be able to prove your involvement in other thefts, we could get you on this one, especially with an eyewitness like myself-"

"Okay, okay!" Lauren waved her hands around. "Fine, I'll do this proposition thingy, as long as it doesn't involve anything like going undercover or something stupid like that."

Lance laughed, a throaty laugh. "Well, you're quite honest, aren't you? I can assure it, it isn't 'stupid' or anything like that. Quite the opposite actually..."

**Phew, now, let's pray that I didn't do horribly on it. *prays very hard*.**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**I recently received a review that mentioned the capitalization of pokemon names. Well to clear things up, here's how I do it. If I'm just mentioning a pokemon species or it has an article in front of it ('a', 'an', 'the'), it's lowercase. If it belongs to a trainer and that is what they call the pokemon (like Ash's Pikachu), then it is uppercase. I hope that clears up things, though, with my luck, probably not :D.**

** And a bit thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter, especially to Rocky373 and Stolloss for their **_**very**_** constructive reviews. I went back to fix a lot of stuff in the last chapter and I reloaded too :)**

****

The ocean waves fluctuated placidly as the silhouette raced over them, stirring them up ever so slightly with the rush of wind that followed. The night skies were clear, lit by the thin sliver of the moon overhead. Rukh's Aerodactyl raced towards a lump of black in the distance, an island . The saw toothed pokemon didn't need much in the way of instruction to get to the island. The man who recruited Rukh used an alakazam to psychically implant the directions into Aerodactyl's violence filled mind. The alakazam looked ill after implanting the directions and Rukh knew then that he had gotten a glimpse of his aerodactyl's memories, which weren't very pleasant. Rukh couldn't help but smile nastily at the incident as the memory resurfaced

Aerodactyl landed on the far edge of the island. The island was stark, devoid in vegetation or native wildlife. Tall buildings reached towards the sky, dark monoliths dedicated to who knows what. The island was a small lump of rock, formed by volcanic activity, situated in the sea between Johto and Orre, known as the Orrian Sea. Of course, many Johtoians disputed the name, but their petty squabbles did nothing for Rukh's life. His was fueled by vengeance and the desire to prove himself, so when the offer to beat Lance's game came, Rukh accepted without need for negotiations or cash. Rukh flicked his grey blue hair out of his face, adjusting it under his grey headband. He would have been considered a handsome man, if it weren't for his cold demeanor. His face was broad, chiseled, while his eyes were the shade of freshly spilled blood though they looked rather small in proportion to his features. He was tall, almost six feet, with prominent muscle, hidden under armor that was polished and formed over his body like a silver carapace, yet, it was well used from Rukh's years of experience.

Rukh slid off the fearsome beast, adjusting the dark blue cape on his back, refastening the pigeon's blood ruby and gold clip, allowing for greater mobility. He gave his Aerodactyl a light scratch on her snout. "Good girl," he whispered, fingers running over the thick, dark grey scales and he then returned the pokemon to her ball. He walked over to an entrance of a ,large, squat building, guarded by two men. Both were clearly drunk, as seen by their erratic gestures and the reek of alcohol. One of them pointed at Rukh and whispered something to his partner, then burst into drunken giggles. Rukh raised his eyebrows at the sight and dutifully ignored them. To him they were nothing more than just a pair of inebriated idiots. But, as drunkards go, they aren't satisfied with their actions; they always have to push it further, just to see if they can.

"Hey," one of them slurred. "Hey you. You, you need a sword to go with that outfit of yours?"

"Excuse me?" Rukh asked, taking a glance down at his outfit. He wore what many would consider a 'throwback' to the more modern clothing. It was a suit of plate armor, with a dark violet tunic underneath. The Japanese kanji symbol for 'fire' was emblazoned in white on the breastplate.

"I said, did ya need a sword for that outfit?" the inebriated man broke into chuckles. "Ya look like an idiot."

That was the spur Rukh needed, to teach this man a lesson. He went over to the pair, and reached down to grab the antagonist by the windpipe. He lifted him off the ground while the other looked on with awe, silent. "You see, I don't need a sword actually, when I could just kill you with my bare hands." Rukh said, squeezing the man's windpipe. The drunkard struggled, his hands clawing at Rukh's bracers, his feet striving vainly to touch the ground. The other man scrambled away, fearing that he would become the next target of Rukh's wrath.

Rukh squeezed harder and suddenly, there was no resistance from his victim. His face turned a mottled shade of purple and blue, then he went limp, his eyes glazed over with the veil of death. With a barely contained sneer, Rukh tossed the corpse aside. He did have to admit though, it was a nice way to start the evening off.

"I should have guess you had arrived Rukh Aswari," a stranger, dressed in a long black coat, greeted Rukh. "By the trail of corpses you leave in you wake." He glanced down at Rukh's pokeballs, then back at the cadaver lying a few feet away. "What, no snack for your Aerodactyl? I heard she had quite a reputation."

Rukh flashed the man a nasty smile. "She just ate."

The man fought the surge of bile; pokemon, while yes they were predators, shouldn't eat the corpses of their human trainers. It just seemed unnatural. "Ah," he finally said, steering Rukh aside. "So, it was nice of you to take up the offer."

"There was nothing 'nice' about it," Rukh replied. His boots slapped on the concrete floor. It appeared to be a warehouse of some kind, with fluorescent lights dangling from the ceiling, lighting the place. Large crates were stacked haphazardly, with little semblance of order. People scurried around the place like insects over a picnic, some holding clipboards, jotting notes down, some moving crates of varying sizes. Other patrolled the walkways of the warehouse, pokemon at their sides, stunguns strapped to their backs, ready to use them at a moment's notice. "It was a job and I took it."

The stranger snorted. "Yes, if it let you get back at Lance." The man laughed when he saw Rukh's jaw tightened, but only just barely. "As I was saying, I looked at your records and you have quite a rap sheet, along with an impressive team of pokemon, especially your Aerodactyl. Now I was wondering, if there was anyway we could get a genetic sample of your beast. It would be nothing more than just a blood sample, maybe a swab-"

"No." the tone in Rukh's voice could have frozen a Charizard's flame.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you deaf? I said no. I'm not having my pokemon become the subjects of some experiment of yours. I know what happened with Giovanni's little 'experiment'."

The man in black dismissed the comment with a wave. "That one was flawed. I can assure you, what we're doing is nothing like that." Rukh raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. The man in black directed Rukh to a large room that jutted out from the warehouse. "Now, if you can just wait here, I'll bring the head of the operation here to meet you." Rukh nodded and the man scurried out, feeling Rukh's cold red eyes at his back. The man gave him uneasy feeling, that was for certain. _"Interesting that he never asked what his job was,"_ he thought, but that was Rukh's way, no questions asked and a trail of destruction in his wake. The G-Men didn't stand a chance.

Kate Broems starred at the computer screen, frustrated, running her hand through her hair. She was an expert, honed by years of experience, but for some reason, her target eluded her. She leaned back into the chair, fixing her ponytail which had come loose from the scrunchie. She was a normal looking girl, with long dark brown hair and pale blue eyes. Men would have considered her attractive, if it weren't for the scar that traveled from the corner of her left eye to her left ear. While thin, it was puckered and red, as if the wound never healed properly. She disliked any attention about the blemish and she repulsed anybody who made any comment about it. She bit the inside of her cheek, deep in thought.

The room she was in was dingy, dark, with only the artificial light of her laptop to light the place; Kate never used public computers; they were too much a liability for her area of expertise. The man who recruited her didn't give her the best accommodations, but Kate was alright with that; the fewer distractions, the better, especially in this case. She was currently trying to hack into the files of the Sinnoh League, or more specifically, the files surrounding Cynthia Griffith, Sinnoh Champion and rumored G-Men. It was what the recruiter asked her to do, to gather as much information on the woman as possible. The man wanted information on her pokemon teams and the ones she has collected over the years. Why, Kate wasn't sure, but she didn't care really. It was the challenge of it, and right now, the program was being very challenging. She shifted her position, because her jeans were starting to feel uncomfortable. She typed rapidly on the computer, trying to find the right combination of programs to crack the series of firewalls surrounding Cynthia's file. The League was very protective of their Champion. Feather, her pikachu, jumped on the desk, nudging her trainer, wanting to play.

"Not now Feather," she gently chided. "I'm busy right now-"

BOOM!

Kate nearly fell out of her chair. "What in Mew's name was that!" Feather shrugged. Idiot, her Kadabra, shrugged as well. Kate sighed and flipped the top of her laptop; she was going to investigate the mysterious noise, because with her luck, it would continue for the rest of the day, disrupting Kate as she worked.

BOOM!

There it went again. It sounded like something had exploded, or a really large firework. Kate hoped it was the latter, because she wasn't in the mood to die in an explosion that day. She went outside, where the sound originated.

The explosion originated in a clearing in between some of the larger buildings. There was a chairzard, a electrode, and a young girl, the three cackling in maniacal laughter. Scorch marks and debris were scattered everywhere in smoldering ruins. Whoever this person was, it was clear that they were obsessed with explosions.

"Fwoosh, fire! Now!" The girl shouted and the charizard gushed forth a stream of white hot flame towards a large crate. Kate shielded her eyes as the box exploded, sending pieces flying everywhere. The trio broke into laughter. The girl's laughter was high pitched, screeching, reminding Kate of fingernails going down a chalkboard. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

"What in Mew's name are you trying to do, kill us!" Kate screeched, stomping towards them, avoiding the burning pieces of wood and explosive material. It wasn't that Kate was worried about safety—the girl could explode herself up for all she cared—but the noise was disrupting her work and Kate didn't want anything disturbing her work. Feather and Idiot tagged behind her, both of them curious.

The girl turned around and the charizard's eyes narrowed. The girl was extraordinarily skinny, almost anorexic, with wild red hair(oddly fitting for a pyromaniac like her, Kate thought) and plain brown eyes. She was wearing a black eye patch over her right eye, and Kate wondered if it was because of an explosion like this one. She was wearing a worn down orange shirt and a pair of ragged jeans, covered in soot. The girl giggled, then said ,"No."

Well, you're going to end up dead if you keep this up, plus the boss will be ticked at your antics." Kate was trying to find some excuse to get the girl to cease.

"No he won't," the girl stuck her tongue out at Kate and the older woman was fighting the urge to use her Ju-Jitsu on her, anything to make the girl stop the incessant racket.

"Yes, he would."

"Nu-uh."

"Crash, what you doing? The boss told you to be careful with that stuff." a young man came out from behind one of the buildings Kate had to fight the urge not to stare. He was handsome, very handsome, with rich hazel eyes and dark hair that tickled the nape of his neck. He was the type of guy that girls wanted to be with and the one guys wanted to be. He winked at Kate. "Hello, you must be Kate Broems, the computer hacker."

Kate flushed. "Um yeah. And who are you?"

"Yuri Petit, breeder from Kanto."

"Oh."

"No you're not." Crash, the redhead, protested. Yuri shushed her.

"Anyway, the boss would like to hold a meeting with us."

"Now?" Kate squeaked.

Yuri nodded. "Yes, now. Why, do you have somewhere else to be?"

"Well- you see. My computer- erm," Kate was at a loss for words, like this Yuri guy sucked them right out of her. She finally gave up; her laptop could wait for a little while longer, it was on its battery cord anyways and in sleep mode. Feather looked up at her and Idiot the Kadabra scowled at Kate. Idiot, despite being Kate's pokemon, resented her, mostly because of the nickname she gave him, and oftentimes would oppose her. She scowled right back. "Can it, Idiot." she returned the pokemon back to his ball.

Yuri raised an eyebrow."You have a pokemon named 'Idiot'?"

"It's- it's a long story." Kate shuffled her feet, embarrassed because of it. Feather looked up and giggled at the sight. "I'll be there in a few."

"Well," Yuri said. "I'm heading there right now, you could come with me. Somebody has to shepard Crash over there, otherwise we might have to deal with unwanted attention, if you know what I mean." he winked again and Kate could have melted right then and there.

"Yeah, I get it."

Yuri gestured for Crash. "Come on Crash, we got a meeting."

"Okay," Crash returned her pokemon and followed behind them, giggling and twirling a top which looked like a Spinarak. It looked old, with paint rubbed off in some places, revealing flashes of metal and wood

Kate looked back behind her shoulder at Crash. "Is, is there anything wrong with her?" she asked Yuri.

"They don't know quite what's wrong with her. All they know is that she was found wandering at the age of six and she was raised by demolition men. But, she does make a good explosion when needed."

"I'll bet."

"You most certainly can."

**Thanks to those whose OCs have appeared so far:**

**LastPrelude: Xavier Omnik**

**Tyltalis: Lauren Silverfeather**

**Rocky373: Rukh Aswari**

**FearThePika: Kate Broems**

**ZuluBlacky: Crash**

**Happy2BMe: Yuri**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**So has nom nom nommed on my scene breaks and they all disappeared, which is very moronic because now it is all but impossible to make said scene breaks, which I noticed, was a huge point I got from my reviews, because they no longer existed. IDK why it did it, but it's stupid and tedious. I'm very sorry for the inconvenience and I hope it doesn't happen again.**

Loren Iagal kept his face close to the pebbly, royal blue scales of Salamence, struggling to keep the chafing wind from his face as Salamence flew. The wind whipped through his light brown hair, kept short, and his clothing like a thousand raking fingers, tearing and tugging at them. The wind was bitterly cold, with the tinge of winter in its breath, despite it only being September, but then again, Salamence was flying through Sinnoh's mountain range, the one that split Sinnoh down the middle of the continent, so to speak.

Three weeks had past since Steven Stone approached him in Mauville, offering him the job of G-Men. Loren readily accepted, since he saw it was a way to pull himself out of the rut he had managed to bury himself in. Education and the desire to learn were a good thing, but education gets you nowhere unless you decide to find a way to apply it. The three weeks went by in a blur since then. First, he had to inform his family of his little 'endeavor', as he put it, but that wasn't so much a problem for him, his parents were dead and he had no idea where any of his living relatives were. Then he had to inform his professor, but he didn't have that either, since his first pokemon, the very same Salamence he was riding on, was his first one. Lastly, he had to make the basic preparations, like clothes, toiletries, and anything else he would need. If he were a professional trainer, he would have had to pick out his main team, then pick out three more pokemon as reserves. Loren saw no need for the team; he had his three pokemon and that was all he had.

Steven used his metagross to give Salamence directions to where Loren was supposed to be. It was slightly unusual that way, why use a pokemon to give out directions? Loren guessed that it was for security purposes; pokemon had more pure intentions than most humans did. Salamence let out a low bellow, drawing Loren from his thoughts. The blue dragon then began to wheel downward in slow large circles, using what little of the heat thermals there were to land. Loren decided then to poke his head out, to get a good look at the surroundings.

The area looked like a large valley, wedged in between jagged peaks. The valley was below the tree line, indicated by the pine trees and other evergreens that grew. He swore he noticed a few deciduous trees in there, their leaves just starting to turn the fiery shades that heralded fall. Small ponds and waterfalls were tucked away in the green, little splashes of blue. Mt. Coronet loomed over everything, a white and wintery monolith. Hidden in the groves were angled red slated roofs, like the Asian pagoda roofs. They were scattered about in an organized manner, and Loren guessed that they were buildings. A open courtyard sat in the middle of it all, heavily populated by people and pokemon. It would seem that he wasn't the only one given this offer.

"Salamence," Loren shouted into the wind. "Find us a place to land down there! In the courtyard." he specified, before the wind took his words away. But either Salamence heard him, or he went by his own instincts, for he started to tuck his wings in and went in for a dive. Loren clung on tightly before he went into the heart lurching dive. A few pokemon and people noticed the blue and red bomb from the sky and they quickly cleared a large enough space for the dragon. At the last minute, Salamence flung his wings wide open, going in for a graceful backwing. Loren shook his head; even after being with Salamence for such a long time, he still wasn't used to the neck breaking dive Salamence liked to go for.

Loren noticed the people giving him long hard stares and Loren flashed a confident and cool smile, his brown eyes twinkling, straightening out his silver and black t-shirt and pulling up his jeans, but only a little; too high and they would be like—as he liked to call them—'grandpa' pants, which most certainly wasn't his style. As he returned Salamence to his pokeball, he spotted something yellow and red, trundling closer to him. He cocked his head to one side, trying to get a closer look, forgetting about the dragon. Salamence did the same thing, his movement echoing his trainers.

It was an ampharos, coming towards him. Salamence snorted, flames flickering in his nostrils, ready to loose a 'flamethrower' attack if need be. Suddenly, the ampharos latched itself onto Loren's leg, hugging him tightly. Loren could feel the residual energy trickle off the pokemon, numbing his leg. Any longer and Loren would no longer feel his entire right side. At least his black shoes were grounding him somewhat. As the ampharos was giving the trainer a hug, a white bird fluttered towards the scene, his wings halfway open, chittering in its language. Loren had to keep from staring. The bird was a pidgeot, yet there was no pigment at all in its feathers. The only splash of color was the ice blue eyes and the faint pink tinge in its beak and legs. As the pokemon world went, pokemon that had different colors than the other members of its respective species were known as 'shinies'; to find a pokemon without any pigment at all, an albino, was even rarer.

"Oh good Albus! You found Trydan!" A girl with dirty blonde hair, kept in a ponytail, ran to Loren and the unusual scene. "Good boy!" She gave Albus, the albino pidgeot, a scratch on the chin, then returned the pokemon to their respective pokeballs. "I'm so sorry about that!" she apologized profusely to Loren. "Trydan, my ampharos, has a habit of hugging people. He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Loren shook the leg Trydan hugged a shake. It felt like it fell asleep, but nothing more. "No, my leg is just a little numb, that's all. Don't worry about it."

The girl shook her head. "Still, I've tried to break him of the habit, especially with strangers, but he just won't do it. Oh I should introduce myself, the name's Gweneth Hylar, but you can call me Gwen for short."

"My name's Loren Iagal." Loren took Gwen's hand ans shook it; the girl had an strong grip.

"That sounds like a mouthful to say. Lots of vowels." she shut her mouth.

"Well, it is my name." Loren laughed. "But yes, it _ is_ a lot of vowels."

"A Salamence huh? That is quite impressive," Loren turned to find someone standing behind him. The person standing behind him was scarily thin, with slender, almost elfin features, high cheekbones and a slightly hooked nose. He had black short hair, with pale green eyes. His right eye though, was a milky color, with no color. The tilt of his head as he studied Loren's Salamence indicated that he was blind in his right eye. He was wearing a simple black shirt with khaki shorts exposign his scarred legs, the many pockets bulging slightly. "I've only seen a few in my lifetime, and only from a distance."

Loren raised a single eyebrow. "And you are?..."

"Aaron Hazel."

Gweneth crossed her arms and mumbled petulantly, "I have a Salamence too."

Loren opened his mouth to say something, but instead of words, the deep reverberant went off and all the people in the courtyard jumped at the noise, their heads turning simultaneously at once, to a large bronze gong that sat up on a ledge, tucked away under the red slated roof. A toxicroak crouched next to it, its throat pouch going in and out, a white fur covered mallet in one of its hooked hands.

"That will be all Neuro. It would seem that the Champions picked out a very good crop for me." An older gentleman stepped out from behind the gong. He looked to be about sixty and his face had a slight Oriental cast to it, with a neatly trimmed goatee, gray with just the hint of its original shade, black. He wore a white shirt and long pants and he had a cane at his side, though he possessed no visible limp. A ninetales walked by his side, the cream fur now completely white with age. "I am Sensei Miros and you are my students." his voice was calm and soothing, like a pond with no ripples. He radiated a serene wisdom seldom seen in people. He clapped his hands sharply. "Return your pokemon at once and line up please, now." The trainers in the courtyard scurried about, returning their pokemon. "Come now, I'm not getting any younger you know."

After a few moments, they had lined themselves up. Sensei Miros walked up and down the line, scanning each and everyone of them. "I'm sure you are wondering why you are here, of all places, today. I'm sure you all have your own lives to attend to, then the Champions came along and swooped you right up and dropped you off here.

"You have been chosen here today because each and everyone of you possess unique skills that no one else has, if they're were, you wouldn't be here, now would you? You have been chosen to train as G-Men, men and women dedicated to keeping the balance between man and pokemon. You investigate crimes that would otherwise go unnoticed by the Jennies. You are not police, you are not vigilantes, you are something more. You only answer to the Champions, and myself, because no one else understands what we do. They out there," he pointed with his cane out to the walls of the compound. "Think that crime that happen to pokemon don't matter. The Jennies go about their lives, investigating crime that deal with humans. The only time pokemon are involved, is when people are harmed in the process. That is the way of people. We are a self centered bunch of people. But not you, oh not you. While you may be that way on the outside, you are not, on the inside. Because if you were, then you wouldn't have been chosen by the Champions.

"Look down below you," Sensei Miros then pointed to the middle of the courtyard, where a mosaic of the ying-yang symbol sat. "That is our balance between man and pokemon and when that balance is tilted, then dire things happen. It is your job to keep that balance.

"This will be the hardest challenge you will ever face. I do not accept shirkers, nor whiners. You will learn to fight, you will learn to work together, you will learn to survive, and you will learn to kill." he empathized. "Your schedule will be long and arduous, but in the end it will be worth it." He pulled out a slip of paper from his pocket. "Now, for the roll call: Rhona Murrow, Verona Moore, Aaron Hazel, Gweneth Hylar, Loren Iagal." He paused as each of them answered. " Very good. Lauren Silverfeather, Xavier Omnik, Erin Manson, Sienna Graye. Jackson Harlow, Lucy Herbert, and Ford Knox. Now, let's get thing started, shall we?" He pointed to two people, Sienna Graye and Jackson Harlow. "You two, get to each side of the courtyard. We're going to have a little pokemon battle."

"But, there is no battlefield," Jackson Harlow, a young man with short black hair protested.

"That's where you're wrong," Sensei Miros tsked-tsked. "the courtyard, is the battlefield." As everybody looked down, he snapped. "Well, those who aren't battling, get off the field for those who can!" The trainer scattered, leaving Sienna Graye and Jackson Harlow on the field. "Thank you. This is a one on one battle, first pokemon who is rendered unconscious, looses. Go." He stepped back from the field, calmly leaning against the wall, his ninetails letting out a bored yawn and curling up into a ball.

"Okay then," Jackson said to himself, pulling out a ball from his pocket. "I'm not going to go easy on you1" He shouted to the girl across the field. He had to admit though, the girl gave him the creeps. She looked like a Christmas angel made by a five-year-old. Curly blonde hair and an impish look to her eyes, coupled with neon green dress liberally covered in small mirrors, bells and anything that jingled or shined. She also wore a tattered witch's hat and she carried a broom like a weapon _"I should've brought my sunglasses with me," _ he thought, looking at the sky, which was now turning the plum shade of twilight. _"Otherwise she's could be seen from space. _Alright then, come on out Ava!" He flung the pokeball into the air and a froslass appeared. The ambient temperature dropped as she appeared.

Okey-dookie then!" Sienna cackled. She grabbed a handful of pokeballs and starred at them intently. "Now, which one should I choose? Hmmm... I know that each and everyone of you can beat that Froslass over there. Now, should I pick you, or you or maybe even you? So many decisions...Hmmm..."

"Oh for the love of Mew, will you just pick one already!" Jackson shouted. "I don't have all day!"

"I'm still deciding!" Sienna shouted right back. "I can't be rushed you know." She then squealed with glee. "I know! Come on out Mr. Tweetums!" A honchkrow appeared in a flash of light.

"Mr Tweetums? What kind of a name is that? And don't you realize that 'Mr. Tweetums' has a type disadvantage?"

"I know, but I'll still win anyways! Mr. Tweetums, start things off with a haze attack!" The honchkrow began to flap her wings and immediately the field was covered with a black fog. Ava looked frantically around for any sign of the bird, for under the cover, honchkrow had the advantage.

"Well, if you want to play that way, fine! Ava, use psychic to seek out honchkrow, then hit it with a thunderbolt!" Ava closed her eyes and a blue aura surrounded her. The courtyard was in suspended silence as Ava searched, for the onlookers couldn't see the field either, just a black fog and the trainers.

Sensei Miros nodded approvingly. "Good good. Adaptation in the face of battle. They have chosen wisely." As he said that, someone came up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sensei Miros, the Champions are waiting for you." The announcer was a attractive woman, with platinum blond hair.

"Thank you Kayla. Will you judge the battle for me?"

"Certainly Sensei."

"Thank you Kayla. Once this battle is over, make sure all the other trainers battle as well."

"Yes sir."

"Good." he gave the young woman a pat on the shoulder. "You were always a good student."

"Thank you Sensei."

Sensei Miros gave Ninetails a pat on the head. "Come one Ninetails." she gave him an indignant growl and padded behind him.

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

Sensei Miros entered the small room where Steven, Cynthia and Lance were waiting. The room was lit by a small lamp in the corner and a rectangular oak table dominated the setting. As Sensei Miros entered, the three Champions stood up, in honor of the man. Sensei Miros quickly sat them back down. "You don't need to do that," he chided. "We're equals now; you are no longer my students."

Steven shrugged. "Well, you still teach us everyday, so technically, you are still our teacher."

Miros growled. "Off with you. You were always the insolent one." Miros sat down in one of the chairs. "Now, may I ask why you're here? It's not because of the students, is it?"

"Yes and no," Lance replied. "We sent the students here because they're going to be trained to be G-Men."

"Well Lance, that is the obvious, though I admit, the number is a little large."

"Trust me Sensei, it is needed." Cynthia added.

"I trust your judgment there. I am concerned about a few of them however. While many of them have massive battling experience, some have little to none at all, but I trust that you knew this already."

"Yes we did. We wanted to speak with you as to why they're here."

"That was what I was wondering myself. I usually don't get new recruits unless they unseated a Champion or they have ranked up enough credentials on the League circuits."

I'll explain.." Lance then regaled the recent hash of crimes to Sensei Miros, who became very pale and he worriedly glanced down at Ninetails, who was fast asleep again, at his feet.

"I had no idea that these crimes were so widespread," Sensei Miros finally said. "I was aware that these were occurring, but not at the scale you describe. I must wonder, are these connected in anyway, shape or form?"

"We think so, because of the precision these crimes were committed, but then again, it could just be a copycat. I just hope they don't start targeting trainer pokemon."

"I hope so too Lance."

Cynthia's cellular phone rang just then and she picked it up, excusing herself for the interruption. A few minutes later, she shut off the phone. "Steven, we need to leave. Now."

Lance hurriedly got up from his chair, the chair clanging against the wall. "Wait, what for?"

"We just received word from the Canalave dockmaster that a ship of unknown origins is sailing into the docks. IT has no identification or papers to speak of. He wants us to check it out. He thinks that it might have to do with the pokemon murders."

"That is an peculiar request. The two things don't seem to connect and if they somehow do, it is a very vague and tenuous one," Sensei Miros pointed out. "Must you check it out?"

"The pokemon crimes have been in larger numbers around populous areas, like Canalave city, and even more so if they possess docks or ports. We guess the crimes take place in one area, then dumped off in urban areas by means of boats or other large transportation."

Miros nodded. "Very well Cynthia. You are dismissed, along with Steven."

"Wait Cynthia," Lance interjected. "Why you and Steven? Why not all three of us?"

"Because Lance, this is my region and jurisdiction and if there has been a crime, then Steven needs to come as well, because he is the scientist and is an expert in criminal psychology among other things. Sorry Lance, you have to babysit tonight."

Lance harrumphed and Cynthia leaned down, giving the Dragon Master a light peck on the lips. "We'll be back soon." She grabbed her coat that was hanging off the door and left the room, Steven following behind.

Miros chuckled. "I didn't realize that you and Cynthia were together, though I did sort of expect it after being around you all this time." Lance said nothing to him, a faint blush on his cheeks and muttering something about 'being a babysitter' and 'Champion'.

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

Jackson looked about the battlefield, looking for any sign of the honchkrow. Ava was trying too, but the honchkrow disappeared off the map, so to speak. "Where are you?" he muttered to himself. Ava looked back at him, confusion alight in her eyes.

"Mr. Tweetums, use heat wave now!" A roiling wave ofdull red heat, with cinders and ashes dancing in the depths, swept through the battlefield. Ava barely had any time to react as the wave pounded into her. She let out a high pitched cry in pain, an eerie hollow sound, like wind through a tunnel. Jackson winced and his heart clenched at the sound. But when the heat wave attack rolled through the battlefield, it had revealed the presence of the honchkrow, who was perched in a dark part of the compound, under the eaves, preening herself like there was no battle going on.

"Ha!" Jackson shouted. "Ava, use ice beam!" A crackling ball of ice appeared between Ava's hands and she flung her hands outward. A shimmering beam of white shot out.

"Mr. Tweetums, dodge it—oh my goodness, Sensei Miros is gone and some random chick took his place!" Sienna shouted pointing to where Sensei Miros was earlier. Jackson whirled around to the direction that she was pointing in. Sienna took the advantage. "Haha! Mr. Tweetums, use heat wave to cloak yourself, then night slash!" She obliged Sienna and the honchkrow sheathed herself in the heat wave, flinging off blades of a black unknown substance at the frosslass.

"Crap!" Jackson snarled, caught off guard. "Ava, use ominous wind to deflect the night slash attack, then thunderbolt." Ava summoned a purple wind around her, the currents swirling and coiling around her in a protective barrier. The night slash attack went into the ominous wind and quickly disappeared into the mist. Ava then cleared the wind aside from her and summoned a crackling lighting bolt, sending it whizzing towards the honchkrow, who was racing at Ava, the heat wave attack acting as a shield. The bird pokemon was caught off guard and squawked as she took a direct hit.

"Mr. Tweetums, shake it off and keep going! Crash into the froslass!" the honchkrow, smoke trailing off her her from the thunderbolt, continued her kamikaze assault and slammed into Ava, smoke rising from the scene, obscuring the onlookers' view, again. The frosslass squealed as the heat struck her.

"Ava no!" Jackson yelled.

"Go Mr. Tweetums!" Sienna cackled in jubilation, doing an odd little dance. "Who's number one? I'm number one! Who's number one? I'm number one!"

Loren, who was watching from the sidelines, gave a snort at the spectacle. "Wow, she is annoying."

"Yeah no kidding. I mean, I understand that celebratin' a victory is one thing, but celebratin' it in front of the loser is another. Kind of rude, don't ya think?" A man standing next to him replied. He was wearing a simple green shirt with a collar, and a pair of jean shorts, which seemed unusual due to the crisp autumn weather, but it would seem that he paid it no kind. A battered, worn bucket hat sat firmly on his head. He stuck his hand out to Loren "Name's Ford Knox, private eye and apparently now a G-Man in training. What's yours kiddo?"

"Loren Iagal."

"Intrestin' name you got there." Ford Knox went back to watching the battle, leaning his elbows on the railing that surrounded the courtyard and battlefield. "Let's hope that I don' have to battle."

"Why's that?"

"'Cause I'm not much of a battler frankly. I just got two pokemon, Sleeper and Matty."

"I'm not much of a battler either. I only have three pokemon."

"You're not much of a battler? Huh, I don' believe that, not with that monster of a pokemon I saw you land with."

Loren shrugged. "Eh, he's just one pokemon."

As the battle ended, Sienna skipped off the field, her dress jingling, Mr. Tweetums behind her, preening herself as she flew. Jackson returned Ava to her ball, head bowed. The petite blond went to him.

"We have a facility dedicated to the healing of your pokemon. It's not a pokecenter, but I do have a blissey," The girl offered. "She can help your froslass out."

"Thank you," Jackson replied. "Are you a student here?"

The girl laughed. "A student? No, I not, not anymore at the least. I'm one of the teachers. Kayla Rian." She summoned blissey and she handed Ava's ball into the pokemon's waiting hands. "Take good care of the froslass, okay?"

"Blissey bliss!" The pink pokemon waddled off, ball in hands. Jackson followed. When he left the field, Kayla pointed to two more people. "You and you. You're next. Same rules from earlier apply."

If Kayla had bothered to look up then, she would have noticed two shadows fly over head, going eastward, towards Canalave city.

**And just about all of the other OCs have been introduced, save for two. Many thanks to those who entered. Thank you for sending them in, even if they weren't accepted. I hope that this doesn't affect how you view the story if they weren't.**

**Rhona Murrow: Hakerius**

**Verona Moore: WereDragonEX**

**Jackson Harlow: FirebirdXoX**

**Loren Iagal: KillerBuneary**

**Erin Manson: KissyFishy**

**Ford Knox: Kios**

**Sienna Graye: Jigglypuff's Pillow**

**Lucy Herbert: The Violet Queen**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**So I am trying a little experiment here, since I do not know if Ffnet has fixed the problems of eating my line breaks. There are two different line breaks I set up and I hope that either one works.**

**Also: This chapter contains violence and unprecedented amounts of awesomeness, courtesy of Steven and Cynthia. Yes, I was being funny there, about the last part, not the first.**

**To my friends at the Awesome Club: I apologize greatly that I haven't been there in a loooong while; school has caught up with me and with the heavy credit load, I will be very busy for a while. I managed to post this because I had it pre-written for a while. I'm sorry guys and I miss ya'll. :(**

Night had fallen on the dock of Canalave City when Cynthia and Steven arrived on their pokemon. Ships of varying sizes and styles moved in and out of the dock as black behemoths, while a lighthouse in the distance flashed its beacon. Low lying clouds, full of rain, were coming in, the city lights turning them an eerie orange shade. People wandered about the docks, to their various tasks; whether their were innocent or nefarious, the Champions didn't know. Cynthia and Steven landed far enough to not draw unwanted attention to themselves, but close enough to see what was happening. Steven returned his skarmory to his ball, as Cynthia returned her tropius to its ball; she had used the tropius to fly her to the city, as it had far more endurance than her other flying pokemon. "I didn't know you had a tropius," Steven remarked.

"I have plenty more pokemon than just my main team," Cynthia said, putting the ball back into her coat pocket. "Togekiss is more powerful than Tropius, but she's not as big. I have other pokemon as well. As any Champion worth their snuff knows, you can't just have your main team."

"I don't need a reminder Cynthia. Just because I took a temporary sabbatical doesn;t mean I'm that rusty." Steven walked towards the office building, where an Officer Jenny was waiting for the pair.

The Jenny smartly saluted. A flashlight was in one hand while her growlithe growled at the intruders before giving them a warning sniff, in case of contraband materials. "Champion Cynthia, Champion Steven."

"Officer Jenny. What are the Jennies doing here?" Steven asked. "I didn't realize that this was a joint operation

"The dock master informed us of the mysterious ship that was coming into dock too, so we stationed a few Officers around the perimeter just in case. You'll be the go team however. We simply can't afford a large scale operation." The last part sounded like a apology. She handed Cynthia a headpiece. "Just in case," the Jenny explained.

"Don't apologize, that's what we're here for." Cynthia gestured to Steven. "Come on, we got work to do." The pair went around the barrier the police set up and headed towards the boat at a half crouch, half run. Thankfully, the police officer had set up the barrier at a far enough distance for the men of the mysterious ship to not notice. Weaving their way through piles of crates and shipping containers, Cynthia and Steven came to a stop. The ship sat in the dock, complacent and silent.

Steven peeked out from behind the rust red shipping container. "Perhaps we're blowing this out of proportion Cynthia. Maybe it has no connection to our case and our resources are wasted here, both ours and the officers. Their budget is already tight enough as it is."

Cynthia placed on the headphones. "I hope it's just a false alarm too, Steven, but there is always that chance and if we don't capitalize on this opportunity, then it could slip through our fingers and we loose the strongest lead we got."

"True." Steven admitted

"Now Steven, look out and tell me what you see."

"Okay." Steven peeked around the corner. "Well, the ship has come to a stop. It's about the size of a midsize frigate ship, with a crane attached to the top of it. There seems to be something mounted to the top of the cabin, but what I can't tell from here. Maybe a beacon or light? Wait, there seems to be some people pulling out a walkway and setting it down. It's big and wide. Now, it looks like s few of the people are tossing bags overboard into the water."

"What types of bags? How many people?" Cynthia whispered.

"The bags look—they look like body bags."

Cynthia cursed sharply, drawing a startled glance from Steven. "I hate them," she growled, reaching for a pokeball. Steven didn't know which one, bet he could bet that it was her Garchomp, her most powerful—and vicious—pokemon on the team. When Cynthia used her Garchomp, she meant business.

"Cynthia!" Steven whispered sharply. "Your temper. We're G-men, not vigilantes. Don't degrade yourself to their level!"

Cynthia shook her head, as if she were dispelling cobwebs. "Sorry Steven, I lost my head there. Okay, we have cause for search and seizure," Cynthia said into the head piece. "Have all available officers on standby." She plucked the headpiece off and tucked it into her coat pocket, while grabbing for a pokeball. "Tell us when we can move closer."

Steven held up a hand. "Steady, steady. One of the people on board is flashing a light in our direction. Wait, go!" He chopped his hand down and the pair ran, avoiding the light as it moved back and forth, seeking. They rolled behind some crates, labeled 'Silph Co.' in black paint.

Cynthia glanced over at Steven. "Ready to rock and roll?"

Steven pulled out a pokeball. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Move!" Cynthia and Steven ran out from behind the boxes, catching a couple of the men off guard. They were dressed in plain brown uniforms, with black coats and berets. "Freeze! This is G-Men business!" The men took a couple of steps back, then pulled back their long coats, revealing a flash of metal and pokeballs.

"Cynthia, they got firearms!" Steven exclaimed. He managed to reach them before Cynthia could. He grappled with one of the men, who had managed to halfway pull out his Baretta pistol. Steven elbowed him in the upper chest, striking him in the collarbone. He staggered back a few steps and pulled pout the pistol. He pulled back the coking mechanism and started to pull the trigger until something ivory white jutted out of his chest, spraying blood everywhere. It was Cynthia's Garchomp, who had used a dragon claw attack, practically eviscerating the man. Cynthia was wrestling the other man for his firearm. The Sinnoh Champion managed to wriggle out of his grasp and launched a kick into the man's torso with her sturdy boots. Steven swore he heard something ribs crack as the man toppled over the edge and into the black waters.

"You okay Steven? You look shaken up," Cynthia said concerned.

"I'm fine, guess I'm not used to seeing a man impaled by a pokemon," Steven returned. "Tell me, have you seen the movie _300_?"

Cynthia shot him a confused look. "No, why?"

"Nothing." Steven looked behind her where more men were charging down the walkway at them, various weapons like machine pistols and Uzis in their hands and cocked. "Looks like we got company!" Steven yanked out a pokeball. "Bastiodon, use protect now!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rhona Murrow sank down in her bed, exhausted after the long day. Her wide brimmed hat and oilskin duster were draped over a chair. After the first battle between Jackson and Sienna Graye, the other trainers battled. She was the third match up, against a girl known as Verona Moore. Rhona's opponent was a crafty trainer, using her houndoom against Rhona's rapidash, Hera. It was a long and drawn out battle, but Hera triumphed, using a combo of agility and stomp, dodging the houndoom's attacks and soundly kicking the hound in the jaw with a well aimed back hoof. The girl, Verona, muttered something scathing as she stormed off the field, though Rhona ignored it. No doubt it was something about her skills though.

She fluffed the pillow behind her head, taking off her wire-rimmed glasses and closing her eyes. No doubt it wouldn't take long for her to go to sleep. The first stars were appearing in the skies in her window. There was then a knock at the door. "Come in," she said, a slight country drawl to her voice. A blond stuck her head in the doorway.

"Is this room occupied?" she asked.

"Well, it's just me," Rhona answered. "Though there are some bunk beds in here."

"Okay good."

"Will you hurry it up Gwen? I'm about ready to fall over I'm so tired.." A girl hissed behind her.

"Jeez Lauren, you just can't barge your way into a place." Gwen hissed, her head partway turned form Rhona. Rhona let out a faint smile.

_"Ah, the impatience of the youth, though it hasn't been long since I was once was,"_ she thought.

"Sensei Miros said we had to share rooms. So we're going to share with her because I don't want to share with Verona or that Erin girl. They're both rude. And Sienna is just weird."

"Lauren!"

Rhona laughed. "Well, they aren't in here. Come on in ya'll." Gwen opened the door and Lauren charged in like a tauros in a china shop.

"I call top bunk!" she proclaimed before she launched herself into the top bunk, throwing her pack onto the bed. Lauren then popped her head up form the bed. "You're Rhona, right? The country girl."

"Yep, that'll be me, the country girl from Fallarbor town. My family raised ponytas and rapidashes, so I'm a bit of a rancher."

"That would make sense," Gwen said. "Ponytas and rapidashes are fire-types and Fallarbor is a volcano town. Your battle was pretty good today."

"Pretty good?" Lauen scoffed. "She totally kicked that Verona girl's butt!"

Rhona flushed in embarrassment. "Thanks, but I'm not much of a battler actually. I only fight to keep the poachers away from the herds. They're mighty valuable to pokemon poachers, especially nowadays."

Gwen sunk down on the bottom bunk. "Well, either way, it was a really close battle."

Lauren placed her face in front of Gwen's, upside down from her bunk bed. "Well, you're lucky that our battle was a draw. My Windblaze can totally take your pidgeot any day."

"But not today," Rhona pointed out. "Well, I'm hittin' the sack. Night ya'll, and don't stay up too late."

"We won't," Lauren chirped. "Right Gwen?"

"Night Lauren." Gwen pulled the covers over her body and closed her eyes.

Lauren huffed. "You older people are no fun." she shook her head and sighed in resignation, tossing her beret and blue jacket into a corner of the room. _"I can clean it up tomorrow." _ she yawned ans fell asleep before her head hit the covers.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, in another room, Verona Moore, Rhona's opponent, was dead set on strangling her bunk mates before the light of the next day. They were both idiots and incompetent battlers to boot, she had decided, though the Sienna Graye girl did have some modicum of talent in her stategy, as reckless and spotty as it was. The Erin Manson girl however, was a poor battler, losing within the first few minutes of her battle with Loren Iagal. She didn't even put up much of a fight. She clamped a pillow over her head, to drown out the complaining of Sienna. The other girl, Lucy Herbert, was in the bottom bunk under her, jamming to her MP3 player. Verona could hear the music from her bunk.

"No fair," Sienna whined. "I wanted top bunk!"

Erin Manson stuck out her tongue. "Too bad, I got it first, so suck it up and deal with it." Sienna sneered at Erin Manson, who sat on the top bunk, who had a triumphant smirk on her fair features. Sienna wasn't deterred from the setback. She wandered over to Verona's bunk, which was also a top one, and tapped her with the shaft of her broomstick.

"Hey, I know you aren't asleep up there, whatever your name is. Tell that whiny little girl over there to shift her tuckus and give me the top bunk. I won my battle today, so I should get the bunk, unlike her over there, who can't battle her way out of a paper bag. Will you _please_ help me out here? Pretty please? Oh, come on!" Sienna poked Verona again with the broom shaft. " I _ know _ you aren't asleep."

_"Maybe if I don't speak or move, maybe she'll go away," _ Verona thought, clamping the pillow tighter over her head, the Lugia and Ho-Oh clips digging into her head. Her black hair tumbled from them in a dark waterfall, over her back as she tried to ignore the annoying witch wannabe. After the third poke though, it wasn't meant to be.

"I swear, if you poke me again, I will take that broomstick of yours and break it, then I'll use it to beat both you and the whiny wench over there with them. Got me?" The tone in Verona's voice took Sienna aback, and for a few moments and Verona hoped that the girl would be silent.

Unfortunately for Verona, it only antagonized Sienna further. "Hey you, whiny chick-who's-name-I-can't-remember-"

"Erin, you idiot." Erin Manson sniffed. "Can't you remember that?"

"You whatever, scooch over, we're sharing."

Erin looked over. "You're on some sort of hallucinogen, right? I'm not sharing with the likes of you."

Sienna ignored her and climbed onto the bed, causing Erin to snort in disgust and she reluctantly gave in, climbing down to the bottom bunk, giving Sienna the top one. Sienna cackled with glee and Erin wondered if that witches hat Sienna was wearing was making her into a witch. _"It probably is,"_ she thought, a tinge of snootiness in her tone, before she pulled the covers over her head, and fell asleep, plotting to get the top bunk back.

Meanwhile, Lucy sighed heartily at the commotion. _Sometimes people are just stupid, immature, or both,_" she thought to herself. _"Maybe I'll go stay in the other room with the other girls. They seemed nice enough." _She ran a hand through her black hair, contemplative and changed the song on her MP3, not in the mood to listen to that song. She was a tall slender girl, with sharp angles all around. She closed her bright blue eyes and determined that she would stay; she was much too tired to leave the nice comfortable bed anyway. She kicked off her black lace-up boots and settled back into bed, her arms behind her head and she lost herself in her rock music, drowning out Erin and Sienna.

"I said shift it!"

"Hey stop that! Somebody make her stop!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Bastiodon, use protect now," Steven shouted, tossing the ball high up into the air. For Cynthia, the world had turned achingly slow, like it was drowning in molasses. The walkway bowed slightly as Steven's shield pokemon was summoned in a flash of white light. A few of the men toppled over as they lost their balance, falling into the waters below. Within moments, the ceratopsian pokemon had used a protect attack, a shimmering blue shield over Steven, Cynthia, Garchomp and Bastiodon itself. The bullets from the guns ricocheted off the blue shield, some of them even crumpled under the force of the impact as it struck the shield. Steven and Cynthia crouched close to the thick grey flanks of the pokemon.

"Okay, now use take down while holding up the shield!" With a deep, throaty bellow, the pokemon charged, using the broad frill as a plow. Men flung themselves off the walkway to avoid being trampled, or worse, getting impaled on the horns of bastiodon.

When they got onto the deck of the boat, Cynthia and Steven broke away from the pokemon, leaving it to its own devices. Suddenly, Cynthia threw herself onto the wooden deck. "Steven, they have a mounted machine gun on the top of the cabin!" she did a combat roll away from the flurry of bullets, pulling herself out of its sight.

"I'm a little busy here!" Steven called to her; currently, he was fighting with three men. He punched one of them in the jaw, dislocating it. His other hand blocked a baseball bat from striking him in the face. He wrenched it out of the man's hands and swung the bat into the man's abdomen. Bastiodon charged and using the face frill as a shovel, he flung the third man off the boat, however, the end results looked more like how a bug hits a windshield.

Cynthia kept herself close to the walls of the cabin as she fought off half a dozen men. She managed to shatter the kneecaps of one man, then flinging him boldly into the others, but it wasn't until Garchomp arrived could Cynthia take a breather. Within moments, Garchomp had either incapacitated Cynthia's attackers, or they fled to other parts of the boat. Blood dripped from the dragon's dreaded claws and her maw. "Garchomp," Cynthia panted, exhaustion taking its toll. "I need you to take out the machine gun above us." Cynthia pointed upwards for good measure; Garchomp wasn't a dumb pokemon, but Cynthia had to make sure, especially at this point in time.

Garchomp nodded and launched herself upwards, the fleshy wings on her arms giving her the extra boost she needed. She landed on top of the cabin and she swung out her arms, catching the machine gunner by the chest. He toppled over the cabin, bleeding heavily from the massive gash that nearly eviscerated him. The other gunner, the one that fed the ammunition belt into the mounted weapon, scrambled to pull out a heavy caliber handgun, but froze as the dragon peered down at him, blood dripping from Garchomp's mouth and claws. She roared and backhanded the weapon. Screws flew in every direction as the gun flew off its moorings, crashing onto the deck below. Garchomp then took three steps before she was on him. She struck him with a backhand, sending him flailing off the cabin rooftop. Roaring in victory, she leaped off, landing heavily off the dock, where Cynthia and Steven were waiting. Bastiodon milled aimlessly; the battle was now over. Men were sprawled everywhere, either dead from the pokemon, or were in varying degrees of pain, courtesy of the G-men.

Steven pointed to the entrance of the cabin. The door had been destroyed through the course of the fight, barely hanging off the hinges. "Look, there's a staircase. If these people are related to the murders, we should find some evidence of it." Steven was bleeding from a cut on his forehead and he had a black eye. Cynthia fared a little worse, with a twisted kneecap and a nose that went to one side; it had broken during the fight. Both had various cuts and scrapes as well, ones that they wouldn't feel until later, when the adrenaline wore off.

"Right. Have Bastiodon guard the top of the staircase. We'll go down into it. Come Garchomp," the savage mach pokemon nodded and followed Cynthia and Steven down the staircase. As they neared the bottom, Steven peered into the inner workings of the chamber. Super computers lined the walls, in varying stages of destruction. Sparks and wires trailed off the drab gray machines as they were rendered non functional. "Dang it," Steven snarled. "They must have destroyed them during the commotion upstairs. We'll never get the information off them now."

Someone stepped in to block Steven's vision. He was taller, almost as tall as Lance, with sharp features and a quiet, yet threatening demeanor about him. Tousled black hair was cropped short as his grey-green eyes bored into Steven . "Well, looks like we have a few busybodies here." He uncrossed his arms, revealing a yo-yo skillfully hidden in a blue glove. "We can't have you snooping around here, G-Men."

"We're on business here. Now, if you willingly surrender yourselves, we can do this peacefully and safely."

The green-eyed man snorted. "As if." he took a couple of steps back, then flicked his wrist out, sending the yo-yo flying. It struck Steven in the wrist and Cynthia heard a few bones crack. Steven yelped in pain and staggered back behind Garchomp, clutching his wrist close to his chest. The man turned to someone waiting in the shadows. "Have your Kadabra at the ready." He pulled out a pokeball. "Kabutops, take care of them." Kabutops appeared on the field, honing its arm scythes. Numerous scars and markings covered the brown armor as it leered at Cynthia and Steven with a predatory gleam. It lunged, screeching, but was blocked by Garchomp, who used her own arm blades to deflect Kabutops's

arm blades.

"Garrrrr!" Garchomp growled, then shoved Kabutops back. The fossil pokemon wasn't deterred though and it lunged again. The two pokemon were soon engaged in a sword fight of sorts, forcing Steven and Cynthia to retreat out of the stairwell and onto the deck, with Garchomp and Kabutops, still dueling, following behind them. As the pokemon cleared the way, Cynthia pointed.

"We need to go back!"

Steven, grimacing with pain, nodded slowly, and followed Cynthia back down there. Cynthia had her guard up, waiting for the yo-yo to come whizzing out of the dark again, but it didn't.

"Idiot, use teleport." Someone commanded, a female, judging by her voice.

"No!" Cynthia cried out as the people disappeared from her view. She punched the wall. "No, we were so close too!"

"There's still a chance. We need to go back up." Steven said. The pair ran back up the stairs and onto the decks. The people were still there, but the Kabutops Garchomp was dueling wasn't. Steven went to one of the people who was sprawled out on the deck, his leg at an awkward angle and unconscious. He shook him gently to wake him, but the man's head lolled to one side and a small vial rolled out of his hand. Steven put a finger to his neck. "He's dead." He said finally, disappointment in his tone.

"The others are dead too," Cynthia seconded. "They must have committed suicide somehow."

Steven stood up, wincing as pain rolled down his arm. "This had to be a setup, drawing us away from the real target. It was a red herring."

"But something must be found, especially from the computers."

"If we can get Stefan to pull something off of them, then it would be a miracle. But for now, we need to inform the officers waiting for us."

Cynthia pulled out the headset she had jammed into her jacket and spoke into it. " We're coming back. Have ambulances and the coroner's office on the way."

_"Roger." _Cynthia placed the headset back in her coat pocket and tilted her head to the sky. Fat raindrops were coming down, washing the blood off her face and hands. It was like it was purging her of her actions, cleansing her in both the psychical and symbolic way. Blood ran off in sheets on Garchomp as she returned her to her ball, Steven did likewise with Bastiodon. Watching Cynthia's crestfallen face, Steven placed his non injured hand on Cynthia's shoulders.

"Come on, let's go home. The officers have this." The pair slowly walked off the boat and off the landing, the rain washing their hopes away at it did the blood soaked decks.


	6. Chapter 5

**Look! I'm not dead and neither is this story! I just needed a 'break' so to speak, so I can ruminate over ideas and ways to work with the characters. Forgive me for being away so long guys and I hope you can thank me by sending a review :). That was a not so subtle hint BTW. Lol**

Chapter 5

Two things woke Ford that very next morning. The first was the booming voice from the hall outside the bedroom he shared with Jackson and Loren. The second was Loren's startled shout at the voice, then falling out of the top bunk in a blue blur.

"Gahhh!" Loren gave a pained shout as he landed in an undignified heap. Seeing Ford and Jackson's stares, he quickly brushed himself off of the dust and dirt and flashed a smile, like he meant to do that, though he flinched slightly as his right leg throbbed; he had landed on it a little awkwardly. "And a good morning to you to. Does anyone know who is out there?"

Jackson could no longer keep it in. "Okay, that just made my whole week man!" He guffawed, sitting upright on the bunk bed he was in. "Wish I recorded it on my cell phone!"

Ford, who was also now up, shrugged at Loren's glower. "I'll admit, it was pretty funny kid."

"Yeah yeah," Loren grumbled, nursing his leg. "Who or what was it that woke us up?"

"We could go take a peek outside and see who it was," Jackson suggested.

The three men cracked open their door and popped their head out to take a quick peek. Sunlight filtered in through the windows as they looked around, their curiosity piqued. Their bedrooms were stationed off a hallway that fed into one of the larger buildings, the main quarters. Simple yet elegant tapestries adorned the austere, wood-paneled hall, the fabric telling tales of mighty feats and of the Legendary pokemon. A very large man was roaming the hall, banging on each door, bellowing for the residents to get up. He towered at just over six feet tall, with close cropped red hair and neatly trimmed goatee. He was broad and muscular, like he spent most of his life lifting weights. He bulk and menacing facial features would have scared small children.

Jackson let out a low whistle. "That man is _huge_. I bet he could crush our head with his bare hands."

"I bet he was a football player at sometime in his life." Loren guessed.

Ford shook his head. "Nope. He's military."

"How'd you guess that?" Jackson asked.

"Simple. See his hair?" Ford pointed. " That's cut in the military style. He carries himself like a soldier, with a upright posture and bearing, but he's always looking around, just in case. See?" Loren and Jackson nodded.

"That's impressive. Did you figure that out just by looking at the guy?"

Ford nodded. "I'm, well, was a PI. It was boring, but I learned a few tricks of the trade along the way."

Jackson grinned a set of pearly white teeth."Cool."

"Morning boys. Better hurry it up before all the good food is gone," Erin winked as she sauntered by. Lucy rolled her eyes as she trailed behind, running her fingers through her short black hair, trying to shake the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes.

Loren and Jackson exchanged glances. "Was she just flirting with us?" Loren finally said.

"You see boys," Ford placed an arm over each trainers' shoulders. "When women flirt, they do it two ways: subtle and not so subtle. _That,_ was not so subtle."

"We got that," Jackson replied. "Now, let's get some breakfast."

The main quarters of their residency was dominated by one long table, enough to seat nearly a score of people. A small buffet sat along one wall, piled with fresh fruit, eggs cooked nearly every which way, bread, a handful of cereals and liquids.

"I think we scored," Loren said, brown eyes taking in the miniature heaven that was laid out before him. He scrambled over to the table, looking through the cereal boxes. "They better have my Fruit Loops." He paused. "What gives? It's all this healthy food." He felt something clap him on the shoulder, though it felt like a bullet train had just made a one way trip into his shoulder.

"You think we'll give you kiddies junk food?" Loren looked up to find the man from the hall looming over him. To say the man was big would have been an understatement on Loren's part. He towered over the young man at almost seven feet tall, with broad muscles and a jovial look in his brown eyes. His nose looked slightly mangled, with his right hand missing most of his thumb, sheared off at the joint where the finger met the hand. A nicely trimmed goatee was the same shade as his close cropped hair, a coppery red. He was wearing camouflage and a pair of khakis. Loren could see a large bowie knife attached to his black utility belt. "Naw! We need you to be healthy and strong."

"But Fruit-Loops can keep me healthy," Loren protested jocularly.

"Not with all the preservatives in them," Aaron said, sitting down across from Rhona, Gweneth and Lauren. Aaron had a couple of clementine oranges on a plate and a short glass of water. "Too much chemicals for me." Xavier nodded in reply; he had grabbed a plate full of eggs, fruit and toast. He was quietly eating, nodding in time with his headphones.

Loren grinned. "But preservatives are delicious."

"Mmmm, chemicals," Lauren giggled. Lauren had unofficially become Gweneth's wing-man, after the pair's battle from the day before resulted in a tie. She took a sidelong look at Aaron's plate. "Is that all you're going to eat?"

"Yes," Aaron nodded. "I usually don't eat a lot in the mornings."

"Why not?"

Rhona shushed Lauren. "That isn't very polite Lauren."

"It was just a simple question! Sheesh!"

"I don't mind answering." Aaron interjected in a soft voice. "I lived in Viridian Forest for a while. There isn't a cornucopia of food out there, so too speak. Plus, I get ill if I eat too much."

"Oh," Gweneth replied. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Aaron shook his head. "No need to apologize. It's not your fault."

Loren sighed as he sat down near them, a bowl of oatmeal in his hands. He had dumped a liberal amount of cinnamon on it. "They're trying to kill me," he groaned, before digging into the bowl reluctantly. "I'm not much of a "healthy food" person."

"You'll get used to it," Jackson offered, sitting by Loren. He had some toast and scrambled eggs. "Oatmeal isn't _that_ bad, especially after you dumped a truck full of cinnamon in it."

Lauren nodded. "Cinnamon's good." She glanced down the long table, seeing Verona sitting by herself, eating quietly. "She looks bored."

"Or set to kill one of us." Lucy Herbert came by, munching on a piece of toast. "She threatened witchy girl over there with her broomstick. It was pretty hilarious."

"I bet it was," Jackson said around a mouthful of eggs. "That witch girl _is_ a bit weird."

"She's a loony," Lauren added.

"Oh my," Rhona remarked to Ford.

"The nature of kids," Ford responded, shrugging.

"Okay kiddies!" the large man boomed. "I hope you guys had a good breakfast because you're going camping!"

"Awwww!" Erin whined. "I _hate_ camping!"

"You're a trainer, you're supposed to go camping." Lucy replied snidely.

"Well," Erin sniffed. "I like my PokeCenters,"

"Clearly," Lucy rolled her eyes, adjusting her black shirt, which somehow had bits of toast on it.

"Ooooh! I love camping! The tents and s'more, campfires and-"Sienna babbled on. "Look! An apple! I'm going to have it!" Sienna got up and skipped over to the buffet table.

"I'm going to go insane," Gweneth muttered.

"As a potential G-Men, you are trained in many aspects of survival," the man continued, ignoring the chatter. "Wilderness survival, first aid, weapons training, espionage, technology and liaison work. To be a G-Men is to be versatile and crafty, shrewd and always in the shadows, never seen of heard. I am Jason O'Brian and I will be teaching you about survival, so for today, and for the next couple of days, you will be divided into three groups and will set off into the wild for three days and two nights. There you will learn to survive on what is out there and to learn how to rely on each other. Your teammates are your most important tool in your arsenal, pokemon and people included."

"I hope I don't get paired up with Sienna," Jackson prayed.

"We are in groups of four," Xavier spoke up. "So the likelihood of it happening is slim."

"Still..."

"Ahem," the man coughed. "Once you are finished breakfast, I'll meet you outside." He peered down at his watch. "You have ten minutes." He grinned as everybody groaned.

"I must have pissed off Arceus in a past life," Loren grumbled, slowly picking at his bowl of oatmeal. "First no Fruit-Loops and now we only have ten minutes."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The dozen trainers met Jason outside the main hall, in the large courtyard where they met yesterday. A dozen packs laid on the ground. Jason was holding a basket full of colored ribbons. "Your packs are right there, so if you could grab those please!"

Sienna skipped over to one of them, her bejeweled dress jingling and clanging as she went. "I call this one! I'm naming it Tim!"

"Told you," Jackson muttered to Xavier, who was standing next to him, nodding to an imaginary beat. His large headphones rested lightly around his neck and Jackson could hear his music.

"Some people just go to the beat of their own drummer," Xavier shrugged. "You can't judge them for that. I think you are a little sore from the battle yesterday, that's why you seem a little 'prejudiced' towards her."

"Only because she rubbed it in," Jackson replied, roughly grabbing one of the packs and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Now that everybody grabbed their packs, now its time for the ribbons." Jason dropped the basket on the ground. A few ribbons tumbled out in the process. "These ribbons are your 'colors'. It will help identify you if confronted by one of the G-Men and to identify your body, just in case." Erin swallowed at the last part. "No two colors are the same, so first come, first serve."

"I call silver!" Lauren shouted, snatching up a silver ribbon. She tied it the end of her scarf. "Woohoo!" She pumped her arms in mock victory.

"Well then, I call gold," Gwen grabbed the gold ribbon. She tied it to her jacket sleeve, the gold matching very well with the brown hoodie.

"We're metallic buddies!" Lauren proclaimed, high-fiving Gweneth.

Eventually, everybody had their colors. Rhona had tan, while Loren was a crimson red. Jackson was a deep forest green, Ford grabbed a pale blue ribbon, Verona had a fiery orange, Aaron, a regal purple; Sienna, a neon green that reminded everybody of an irradiated highlighter; Lucy, a deep cobalt; Erin had a black ribbon and Xavier chose a lavender color.

"Everybody have your ribbons?" Jason asked, grabbing a dark brown one for himself. "Now, these ribbons will be your designated color for your service in the G-Men group. You can't change them, so this is your last chance to pick a different color." When no one came forward, Jason began again. "Now, You'll be divided into three groups of four. So let's see here..." Jason tapped his chin thoughtfully as he studied them. "Okay then, Lauren, Xavier, Verona and Lucy, you guys are in one group. Gweneth, Jackson, Aaron and Rhona are in another and Loren, Sienna, Erin and Ford are in the last one. Got that?"

"Someone kill me now," Loren moaned.

"Today isn't your day, is it Loren?" Ford inquired.

"Nope."

Jason tapped his boot impatiently. "And if Stefan would get his lazy bum over here soon, I can send you kiddos off."

"Hold your ponytas Jason," Stefan came out of one of the buildings, frantically pulling on his long purple coat. He was of slender frame, with raven black hair tied back, emphasizing his delicate, almost cat like features . A pair of rectangular rimmed glasses perched on his nose precariously as he hurried to the courtyard. His pale green eyes sparkled mischievously as he adjusted his tie.

Erin nudged Lucy in the side. "He's kind of cute."

"And out of your league," Lucy snorted, moving away ever so slightly. "But he sort of looks like Lucian from the Sinnoh Elite Four."

"That is because I'm his younger and much cuter brother," Stefan replied, winking. What did you need me for again?" He kidded with Jason, who only glowered at him, beefy arms crossed.

"You know what I need," Jason growled.

"A massage? Or perhaps a cookie?" Stefan winked, almost flirtatiously, at Jason. Some of the girls giggled at his joke. "Ah, you need Esperos to use 'teleport' on the munchkins."

"Why does everybody call us "munchkins"?" Lauren whispered to Gweneth.

"I guess it's because we're kids to them."

"Well _duh_ Gwenie."

Gweneth raised an eyebrow. ""Gwenie?"

Stefan clapped his hands. "Can everybody get in their groups please? It's hard to teleport kids if I don't know where they're going." With a few grumbles and groans, the trainers got in their designated groups. "Thank you," Stefan pulled out a Luxury Ball and casually flipped it in the air. "I summon you Esperos!" In a flash of white light, Esperos the Alakazam appeared. The Alakazam looked old, with white whiskers and dents and scrapes on his brown body 'armor'. One of his spoons was bent, a slight coat of rust on the edges. "Now Esperos, use teleport on each group at a time. Send them to the chosen sites around the compound." Esperos nodded slowly and tilted one of his hands horizontally. His eyes glowed and in a flash, the first group disappeared. He set his eyes on the next group and did the same thing.

Loren tapped Ford on the shoulder. "Have you ever teleported before?"

Ford shook his head. "Nope, hope you took your Dramamine." The third group teleported away lastly.

"Looks like my work here is done," Stefan returned Esperos to his ball rubbed his hands together and began to saunter off when Jason grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar, jerking Stefan back. Jason pointed upwards.

"Cynthia and Stephan are returning!"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Cynthia groaned as she slipped off of Tropius. Her nose was throbbing incessantly and her twisted knee protested as she tried to take a step. Jason caught her as she tumbled. "You alright Cynthia?" Jason asked, concerned.

"Well, my knee hurts like the dickens and my nose is broken and I think a lot of other body parts too, but other than that, I think I'm fine," she joked weakly before her eyes rolled back and she fainted. Stefan was supporting Steven, who was limping slightly as the pair came to Jason. Steven clutched his wrist close to his torso, wincing every time it moved.

"Let's get them to Kayla right away," Jason called to Stefan.

"I agree." Stefan assisted Steven inside, with Jason carrying the unconscious Cynthia bridal style, like she were a rag doll.

Fifteen minutes later, Cynthia woke up to Kayla attending to her and Steven in the infirmary of the compound. Lance and Sensei Miros were nearby, anxious. She winced as Kayla prodded at the Champion's nose. "That hurts!" Cynthia hissed.

"Well," Kayla huffed, her arms at her hips. "If you didn't break it, I wouldn't be doing this right now. Now hold still while I set it back into place."

"Wait hold on—Ow!" Cynthia yelped as Kayla popped her nose back into place. "Please give a warning next time!"

"I did, and you didn't listen."

Steven chuckled. He was sitting in one of the infirmary beds, being attended to by Kayla's Blissey. The pink rotund pokemon was cleaning one of Stevens cuts with antiseptic. "She has you there Cynthia. She did warn you."

Cynthia waved him off. "Not much of a warning."

Kayla turned to Steven. "And don't think you can get off so easily Mr. Stone. I'll still have to check your wrist out."

"Fantastic," Steven muttered, sinking slightly in the medical bed. The blissey chirped disapprovingly of Steven's actions and jerked Steven's arm back into place, applying even more antiseptic. Steven would swear later that she was being vindictive.

"What happened out there?" Lance asked, hovering near Cynthia, concerned etched on his already tired features.

"We got to the boat and we were soon ambushed by the ship's crew. We managed to incapacitate them but when we were trying to go below decks, a trainer with a Kabutops forced us back on the top deck. When we finally managed to get back down, the trainer escaped with his Kabutops and the crew seemed to commit suicide. The coroner will confirm that for us."

"Was there any evidence at all?" Sensei Miros inquired.

"The police are searching it right now, but any of the computer data has probably been destroyed by now."

"I bet I could take a look at it," Stefan offered.

"I'll see if I can get the police to send whatever they can salvage to us." Cynthia sighed and sank in the hospital bed, a deep, bone tiredness sinking into her body. All she wanted to do was sleep for the next three days "What a night."

"Indeed. "Steven sat there patiently as Kayla examined his wrist.

"It looks like it's broken," Kayla confirmed. "I'll put it in a cast, then after eight weeks, a sling. How did you manage to break it?"

"A kid with a yo-yo."

Kayla shot him a quizzical look. "A yo-yo."

"A very deadly yo-yo."

Cynthia smiled at his tone, but winced as her nose twinged painfully. "I didn't know you could sling a punch like that Steven."

Steven shrugged. "Knowledge is a excellent tool in itself, but nothing beats an old fashioned uppercut."

Lance placed a hand over Cynthia's. "Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine Lance and stop hovering like a mother pidgey. I'm not dying."

"I think that's the morphine talking Cynthia."

Sensei Miros shook his head, worry etched on his features. "I'm glad that you and Steven are alright, Cynthia, albeit with a few cuts and scrapes; however, I am worried about the boldness of these pokemon killers. This move shows that something bigger is at work here."

"Or maybe they were just stupid," Stefan interjected, hopeful.

"I hope so, but I have the feeling that they know exactly what they are doing and this is but a red magikarp, designed to lead us away from the trail. Either way, we need to make the best of this and maybe we can use this against them."

Jason nodded. "I agree Sensei. This is clearly a feint to draw us away from the real target, but they assume that we know what their plan is even though we do not. So now this is now a legitimate clue and like Sensei Miros says, we can use their assumptions against them."

"At least it is a bit of good news as weird as this sounds," Cynthia said. "We could use some bread crumbs like these." She closed her eyes. "Now, can I get some sleep?"

"Very well then Cynthia," Sensei Miros ushered for the other to leave. Kayla elected to stay, to wrap Steven's wrist and tend to his broken eye. She pulled the medical curtain around Steven's bed so that Cynthia could get some rest. Lance stayed behind.

Cynthia opened one eye slowly to peer at Lance. "So, now what?" There was an undertone of irritation tinging her weary voice.

Lance sat in the hard plastic chair next to her. "I'm not sure Cynthia. We just wait, and hope that we can unravel this Gordian knot."

"If I recall right, the Gordian knot was solved by a sword slicing it."

Lance chuckled. "Always so blunt, are we?"

"And sleepy."

"See you tomorrow," Lance kissed her on the forehead and closed the curtain around her, allowing her to sleep.

**For those who don't know, the Gordian knot was a famous puzzle back in the days of Alexander the Great. According to mythology, a king of a city would challenge would be conquerors to solve the Gordian knot. If they could, they would get his territory; if not, then they were either killed or driven away. When Alexander the Great cam along, the king offered the same deal to Alexander, but instead of trying to unravel it, he just pulled out his sword and cut it in half, technically solving the Gordian knot. :)**


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